It's A Dangerous Game
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: AU. House and Cuddy are involved in a fateful event that causes them to swap bodies, leading them to have to deal with the hospital staff as the other person. Lots of humor and fun! You can't pass this up and you know it.
1. The Swap

**Okay, guys. This is totally A.U. It is inspired by a fanfiction challenge at a board I'm a member of. Basically, it's "Freaky Friday" body swap. I chose to use Cuddy and House because can you just image House in Cuddy's body? Oh, the games! Anyway, the challenge was a oneshot, but this idea is too beautiful too not flesh out. So... this is a multichapter fic. Please read and review. I enjoy input, especially if anyone gets confused (I hope not!). And I don't own any characters. Enjoy!!**

* * *

Cuddy quickly pressed the button for the first floor as she stepped into the elevator and faced forward. Her shoulders were slumped and a sigh escaped from her parted lips. It was well into the night and a medical crisis that had been recently solved was on her mind. Cuddy's mind drifted, however, as she thought of stopping in her office to grab her coat and purse before heading home. The idea of collapsing on her bed was enough to keep Cuddy's energy level up high enough to make it home.

The elevator doors were almost shut when a cane swung in and pried them open. Cuddy closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them, House would not be standing in front of her. Much to her dismay, however, House was entering the elevator when she opened her eyes. His coat was on and a backpack was slung over one shoulder. He pressed the button to close the doors, which they silently did.

House popped a Vicodin before turning to Cuddy, his mouth open, but Cuddy raised a pointed finger in his direction.

"Don't." she warned with a shake of her head, "I'm too tired to engage in a verbal tango with you tonight, House."

House frowned, "That's not the Cuddy I-"

House stopped when the elevator began shaking and the lights started to flicker. The elevator slowed to a stop, the lights overhead dimming.

"No." Cuddy groaned and pressed every button on the elevator panel, holding a finger longer on the alarm button, causing a loud bell to ring.

House swatted at her arm, releasing her finger from the button, causing the irritating noise to stop. He reached down swiftly and pulled at the small door which the elevator telephone was hidden behind. It was stuck. Cuddy placed her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed as she watched him. House yanked at the door again and it swung open, but as it did, the elevator jolted and the lights went out. Cuddy let out a cry of panic.

"House!" she scolded, "What the hell did you do?"

"Yeah, I'm sure that's supposed to happen when you open the telephone door." House replied sarcastically in the general direction of Cuddy's location.

House dropped his backpack to the floor alongside of him. He reached for the phone, but his hand came across air. He chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?" Cuddy was glaring into the darkness.

"Phone's not there." House answered and leaned against the wall, "Have a cell? My battery's dead."

"My cell phone's in my office." Cuddy told him, deflated, "Push the call button again."

"It gives me a headache." House replied to her, "You know, it's getting cold in here, Cuddy. Maybe we should try to keep warm. I hear sex in an elevator is adventurous and toasty."

"No chance in hell." Cuddy was glaring even harsher toward House's voice.

"I'm sure Satan would approve." House told her, "Oh, wait, that's you. Guess she wouldn't."

He reached out for the door to the elevator telephone and swung it shut. The elevator jolted once more causing Cuddy to cry out again, reaching for the wall of the elevator. A sudden bluish white light filled the elevator with the sound of a dull buzzing. Cuddy and House both felt a shock much to the effect when one touches bare skin to metal caused by static. However, this sensation spread through their entire bodies.

The elevator went completely dark. House shook off the feeling while Cuddy was having a harder time. There was a dull throbbing in her right thigh. She reached down to massage it and screamed as she felt an uneven surface beneath jeans that she hadn't been wearing. Her scream was deep and familiar to her ears, but it was not the voice she recognized as her own.

The lights flickered on, still dim. Blinking against the light, both House and Cuddy let their eyes adjust. Cuddy cried out, while House let his mouth fall open as they realized they were staring at themselves. Cuddy looked down, seeing the blue shirt beneath the jacket accompanied by a pair of jeans. She dropped the cane she was holding and clutched the side of the elevator as she realized she couldn't put her full weight on her right leg.

House looked down, a pair of breasts beneath him enclosed by a tight pink shirt and grey skirt meeting where the shirt ended. House immediately put his hands to his breasts and looked at Cuddy, or at least who he assumed was Cuddy in his body.

"What the hell just happened?" Cuddy asked in a state of shock.

"Well, now this is quite interesting." House's hands were on the breasts he now had. "Very... _very_ interesting."

"Get your hands off my breasts." Cuddy commanded, limping toward House and whacking his hands off the breasts that seconds ago had been her own. She stared at her former breasts, "Are my shirts always that revealing?"

"I've only been trying to tell you that for years." House rolled his eyes.

"This can't be happening." Cuddy shook her head and began pacing, limping, refusing to use the cane, "This is unreal. People don't just switch bodies, House. This is a nightmare." Cuddy stopped, clutching the side of the elevator again, "Damn it! I can't even pace in your body!"

House shrugged, "Try using the cane."

Cuddy glared, "Oh, you think this is great, don't you? What did you do, House?"

"I did nothing." House shook his head. He reached up and put slender fingers in the dark curly hair, "This is quite annoying. It moves when I move. I think I might have to cut it off."

"Don't you dare." Cuddy pointed a finger.

"I don't think you could stop me if I tried." House replied, finding humor in this entire situation, "I can run faster in heels than you can limp with a cane."

Cuddy reached down and picked up the cane. She jammed the end into the elevator floor, "Yeah, I'd like to see you run in heels, House."

The elevator jolted again and Cuddy almost lost her balance. She tried to ground herself, but ended up putting too much weight on her right leg, causing her to whimper in pain. House watched, amused. The elevator started to go down as the lights brightened back to normal.

"Being a cripple sucks, doesn't it?" House asked in her direction, wondering if he ever contorted his face in pain like Cuddy was doing right now with his face. He figured not.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Cuddy hobbled out, using the cane. House swiped the backpack from the floor and almost tripped in the high heels as he made his way out of the elevator. The first floor was mostly empty except for a nurse at the front desk and a security guard monitoring the front door. Cuddy stopped walking and watched House try to regain his composure after almost falling. He extended the backpack to Cuddy.

"I believe this is yours." he said.

Cuddy glared, yanking the backpack from his hands, "What are we suppose to do now?"

"I guess..." House started, smirking, "I go on living as you and you go on living as me until we switch back. Or figure something else out. Whichever comes first."

Cuddy stared, "You want me to live as _you_? With your... penis?"

"I'm not complaining about living with your vagina." House replied.

Cuddy dropped her mouth open, "Oh my God. House... don't you even... don't you dare..."

"What?" House asked, innocently before producing a devilish smile.

"That's my..." Cuddy was shaking her head, tears coming to her eyes.

"Don't cry." House was slightly disgusted, her tears ruining his fun, "That's my image in your hands. Gregory House doesn't cry."

Cuddy held back the tears and looked at House with an intense anger, "You are not allowed to... touch me. Do you understand?"

"Touch you?" House repeated, acting confused.

"You know what I mean." Cuddy narrowed her eyes.

"That's not fun." House replied, "What do I get out of it?"

Cuddy stared for a moment. She had an idea, "You won't touch me in... that way. And _I_ won't take Vicodin, proving that you don't need it to control your pain."

House smiled, "Deal. And when you won't last and take Vicodin, can I "touch you," as you so nicely put it?"

"No!" Cuddy exclaimed, her deep voice coming out loud and echoing, causing the security guard to look over and watch them. Cuddy lowered her voice, "You better behave. I'm serious, House."

"Okay, then." House said, "It's a deal. Although, if you do crack, I get to make up new terms if you don't want me to-"

"Fine." Cuddy cut him off, "You're sick, by the way."

House smirked and extended a hand, noting how small and well manicured it was. Cuddy reached out and they shook on it. House began his way toward the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" Cuddy asked.

House turned.

"You have to get your purse and jacket." Cuddy told him, "In your office. If we're playing the parts, we gotta live where we're suppose to. I'm going to your place, you're... going to mine."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, wishing she wasn't suggesting House to spend the night in her home. But, they obviously couldn't go to their own homes because they wouldn't have the proper wardrobe. House nodded.

"Right." he started off toward the direction of his "new" office, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow and my porn's in the closet. Night!"

Cuddy slapped her hand to her forehead, knowing that the nurse and possibly the security guard heard the words that House had said, though they came from her former body. She was quite certain House was going to ruin her image as well as her life. Sighing deeply, she moved toward the exit, limping, and hoping the pain in her thigh wouldn't get worse. She also hoped, as she made her way out the doors, that she would wake up from whatever nightmare she was in.


	2. Morning After

**And on to chapter two. Thanks for the tremendous feedback. I really appreciate it. I hope you guys like this chapter. This fic is mighty fun to write. Anyway, a special thanks to my Beta - thank you (He seriously rocks). And since I've rambled enough, on to the fic! Enjoy:o)  
**

* * *

Cuddy awoke due to the concentration of pain in her thigh. She reached a hand down in a state of half sleep and felt the damaged muscle beneath the thick fabric of jeans. Cuddy flung her eyes open, aware of the fact she was in a bed that was not her own. She groaned in frustration and pain, still disbelieving that she was in House's body. She had not changed and went straight to bed upon arriving at House's place, hoping the sooner she went to sleep, the sooner she would awake from this nightmare. Clearly, she was wrong about her theory.

The pain was growing worse as Cuddy became more awake. She shut her eyes against it and massaged the muscle, hoping it would relieve some of the tension. It didn't and Cuddy shivered, sweat forming on her brow. She silently cursed, House's body going through the beginning stages of withdrawal from lack of Vicodin. She regretted making the deal with House to give up the drug. Cuddy was certain this pain was not worth keeping House from molesting her body.

But, Cuddy wanted to prove to House that he didn't need the Vicodin. She threw the covers back and forced herself from the bed, almost falling to the floor. She clutched the night stand and reached for the cane. Fighting a sudden bout of nausea upon standing, Cuddy wondered if House's pain was always this extreme or if the withdrawal symptoms were making it worse. Cuddy decided to take a hot shower, pop some aspirin, and drink some tea in the hope that it might relieve at least a small fraction of the pain.

* * *

House stretched, extending the small arms above the mess of dark hair. He rolled over, enjoying the comfort of Cuddy's bed while waking up pain free. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. After much debate of going to bed naked, House had decided on dressing Cuddy's body in a black, slutty nightgown instead and was now fully enjoying staring at the reflection the bathroom mirror gave him.

House repressed the urge to pee, finding it almost too awkward to sit on the toilet for that bodily function. He still wasn't used to the whole vagina thing and since he made a deal not to 'touch,' it took all the fun out of peeing. House stared at the reflection, wondering how Cuddy could put all that make up on in the morning. He also wondered _why_. House decided to skip the make up and simply leave the smeared remains from the previous night.

House moved on to the hair, searching for a hairbrush. He found one on a shelf in the bathroom closet. He picked up the hairbrush and moved back to the mirror. With quick strokes, House moved the bristles through the tangled hair. Once he finished, he regretted the action, for the hair was unknotted, but it was now anything but tame as it puffed out in a mass of darkness. House frowned and pulled an elastic band from around the brush handle. It took him a few tries, but he managed a messy ponytail with a few bumps in it.

Leaving the bathroom, House was pleased enough to move on to the bedroom closet. He threw the doors open grandly, looked over Cuddy's wardrobe, and smiled. He was going to have a good day.

* * *

Cuddy entered the hospital, face flushed and a sheen of sweat across the wrinkled brow. She limped as she chewed some aspirin. She figured House's drug tolerance was high and didn't think twice about doubling (or tripling) her aspirin intake. She gave low nods of greeting to a few staff members and made her way to the elevators.

The elevator doors opened smoothly and Cuddy stepped in apprehensively, fully aware that the last time she boarded this elevator, she became a limping, drug addicted misanthrope. She pressed the button to go up and waited, letting out a sigh. Her thigh was killing her. Cuddy drew her eyebrows together in a combination of worry and annoyance when Wilson entered the elevator. He appeared pleased.

"You're on time today," Wilson said, standing alongside who he thought was House. "What's the special occasion?"

"No, uh-" Cuddy realized she had knocked House's pitch up two notches in her nervousness. She cleared her throat and lowered her tone. "No occasion."

Cuddy winced against the pain shooting through her thigh as the elevator doors slid shut. Wilson stared at her, taken aback slightly.

"Are you... sweating?" Wilson asked, leaning in. "It's October."

"Yeah, well..." Cuddy racked her brain, trying to think of something mean that House would say. "You're divorced... three times."

"Yes." Wilson agreed and sipped from the coffee in his hand. "And you look like you're going through withdrawal. Have you taken any of your Vicodin today?"

Cuddy held her breath and shook her head, putting on her best House-has-pride-like-an-arrogant-ass face. "Nope."

Wilson was taken back again. "Why? Is this another thing between you and Cuddy? What is she going to let you do?"

The elevator doors slid open and Cuddy headed toward House's office. Wilson followed after, catching up.

"No, really, House," Wilson started, almost smirking. "What are you getting out of this?"

"Nothing," Cuddy shot back in Wilson's direction and ducked into House's office, pulling all the blinds closed. She looked up and saw House's team around their conference table, all staring.

Cuddy walked over to House's desk and paused, wondering what House did in the morning when he entered his office. She waited a moment, unsure, then turned and walked into the conference room. House's team was still staring.

"What?" Cuddy sneered at them, mostly in a bad mood because of the pain.

"I don't think you've ever been in this early," Foreman said, eyeing his boss suspiciously.

"Are you feeling okay?" Cameron asked with concern. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," Cuddy replied, leaning on the cane. "What do we have today?"

Chase pushed a chart across the table. Cuddy reached down and picked it up. It was familiar to her because yesterday when she was walking down the hallway, a man who apparently had been visiting his wife, started seizing. Cuddy scanned the chart, realizing why this was a case for House. The man's tests were all over the place and didn't explain his seizure.

Cuddy looked back up at her team, confused as to what she should do next while trying to figure out a sarcastic remark. Cameron appeared worried when Cuddy didn't say anything. Cameron looked to Foreman and Chase before looking back at the sweaty, pale, and unusual House standing in front of them.

Deciding she needed to do something, Cuddy moved over to the dry erase board and uncapped the marker. She threw the chart to the table and scribbled in her cursive fashion '_Edward Fuller_, _Symptoms__, seizure, paresthesia, disorientation_.' Cuddy capped the marker and swung around to face the team, noting that Chase and Cameron were exchanging looks while Foreman had his hands clasped by his mouth as one of his eyebrows were raised, still suspicious.

"Is there a problem?" Cuddy leaned in like House often did when annoyed.

"Are you sure you're not sick?" Cameron asked. "You're acting strange, you wrote the patient's name at the top as if you actually care, and your handwriting looks... different."

"Girly's more like it," Chase muttered.

Foreman shot Chase a look. "Girly?"

"It's all cursive and swoopy," Chase replied.

"Enough!" Cuddy exclaimed. "Why don't we just focus on the patient?"

House's team stared in disbelief, it being unusual for them to hear those words come from House's mouth.

"What can cause these symptoms?" Cuddy asked, putting out her authoritative tone. "A response before this man has another seizure would be great."

Cameron, Chase, and Foreman all scrambled about the papers on the table, preparing to rattle off possible answers that would lead them to go run tests. Cuddy sighed, doing her best to ignore the pain that almost made her double over, and chose to put her energy into solving the case.

* * *

House was well aware he was two hours late, but he didn't give a crap because no one was there to scold him for tardiness. _He_ was the person that scolded people for tardiness. House strolled into the hospital, smiling with delight at his handiwork. He was turning heads in Cuddy's body and was enjoying every minute of it.

House had taken over an hour dressing, spending extra time trying on all of Cuddy's bras, but making sure he didn't 'touch' too much and break the deal. However, he made sure to stare an extra long time. Normally, under any other situation, House would have broken the deal and then lied about it, but this particular situation was strange and it was Cuddy he was dealing with. House found himself thinking that if perhaps he had a vagina, he might have offered the same deal. House knew most women, Cuddy among them, cared about the integrity of their vaginas while guys pretty much would... well, any place it fits.

All eyes were on House, whether they were blatantly staring or glancing every few seconds, pretending not to look. House smiled wider. To begin, he had chosen black underwear, a dangerously low cut quarter length sleeve red shirt, and a black skirt that was roughly six inches from the knee. House finished the ensemble with black, shiny, high heeled boots that just reached the knee. Then, it took another hour for House to practice walking in them. All the tripping and nearly sprained ankle was enough for the fun he was having at this moment.

Eventually, House made it to Cuddy's office and he swung the door open, whistling. He stopped, almost crying out in surprise when he saw himself standing there, looking like hell. He smiled and shut the door while the person in his body was staring at him in horror, mouth hanging open.

"I look like a whore!" Cuddy exclaimed, limping toward House and looking over the outfit he chose. "And you're late."

"Well, I look like I was run over by a car," House replied, raising the perfectly waxed eyebrows.

Cuddy flopped her hands to her sides, the cane thudding against the ground. "And look at my hair. What did you do?"

House shrugged and walked around to Cuddy's chair. He sat down, legs spread apart, and leaned back. Cuddy glared and nodded toward his open legs.

"You're in a skirt," she told him.

"And you're sweaty," House replied, giving her a look of disgust.

"Because I'm going through withdrawal thanks to your drug addiction," Cuddy shot back at him. "I can hardly see straight. We are fixing this _now_, House."

"I would love to, Cuddy, but no can do." House nodded toward the office door. "I have a meeting with Wilson."

Cuddy let her mouth drop open again and glanced at the door to see Wilson waiting just outside. House held up a finger, indicating for Wilson to wait a minute. Cuddy turned back to House, who still hadn't closed his legs, and glared menacingly.

"I'm going to go back upstairs and work with your moronic team," Cuddy told him.

"Moronic?" House scoffed, amused.

"And when you get done talking with Wilson, expect another visit from me because we are fixing this today." Cuddy's eyes were narrowed. "Do you understand?"

House waved Wilson in. The office door opened and Cuddy straightened up, her hand grasping the end of the cane tightly. She held her eyes locked with House's, then turned and limped from the room, passing a curious Wilson on the way.


	3. Friendly Fun

**Here's a new chapter, guys! I had _a lot_ of fun with this one. (passes out an e-cookie to each person and hands five to Beta) That was my way of thanking you guys for reading and extra thanking my awesome Beta. Enjoy!!  
**

* * *

Wilson sat down in the chair opposite Cuddy's desk. He smiled at her and House smiled back, his diabolical plan sitting nicely in his mind. He was really going to enjoy this. 

"So, what deal did you make with House to keep him off Vicodin?" Wilson asked, leaning back in the chair. "And I congratulate you because it seems to be working."

"I don't want to talk about that," House said and leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow resting on the desk, revealing Cuddy's bosom quite well.

"Um, okay," Wilson replied. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You," House told Wilson, trying his best to be seductive.

House stood from the chair and walked around Cuddy's desk. He sat on the edge, crossing one leg over the other. Wilson stared, unsure of what he was suppose to do. House had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

Wilson's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Me?"

"Yes, you, James." House was lusty. This was too fun. "I've had my eye on you for quite some time. Your divorces make me so... _hot_. I love a man who can't commit."

Wilson raised an eyebrow as his mouth fell open, unsure of what to say. He scooted his chair back, arms raised defensively. "I, uh... Dr. Cuddy..."

"I've always worn these low cut shirts hoping I would get your attention." House leaned in closer since Wilson backed away.

Wilson stood up nervously and began pacing behind the chair he had been sitting in. House, again, had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Wilson appeared quite unnerved.

"I, um, I had no idea." Wilson stopped pacing and faced the provocatively dressed Cuddy. "Wait a second. Did House put you up to this? Was this part of the Vicodin deal?"

"If it was, wouldn't House be here watching?" House slid off of Cuddy's desk and made his way toward Wilson.

"I don't know." Wilson looked at House strangely and before House could get too close, he moved back and bolted from Cuddy's office.

House burst out laughing. This was really too good to be true. He was pain free, hospital administrator, and was able to mess around with Wilson however he pleased. It almost didn't bother him that he had no idea how he came to be in Cuddy's body. And it almost didn't bother that he hadn't the slightest idea how to fix it.

* * *

Cuddy was bent over in House's office chair. She had her face buried in her hands, praying for some miracle to make the pain go away. She wondered if House was finished talking to Wilson. It also crossed her mind that whatever House was meeting Wilson about was probably not a good thing. Sniffling and wiping tears from her eyes, Cuddy straightened up. She turned in the chair and realized Cameron was standing in the office. 

"Are you sure you're all right?" Cameron asked, timidly.

"I'm fine," Cuddy emphasized and reached for House's mug which she filled with water an hour ago. She took a drink.

Cameron walked closer to House's desk. "You're not fine."

Cuddy set the mug down on the desk. "Did we ever have sex?"

Cameron stopped dead in her tracks. "What?"

"You and me," Cuddy said. "Did we ever have sex?"

"No!" Cameron shook her head. "House, what is wrong with you? Maybe we should get you to see Cuddy or-"

"It's _Doctor_ Cuddy, for your information," Cuddy cut in. Cameron was making the pounding in her head worse.

"See, that's it right there." Cameron was clearly concerned. "You're _defending_ Cuddy. I mean, Dr. Cuddy. Is she making you give up Vicodin? You can't just go cold turkey. You can't function without Vicodin, House. I'm going to go talk to her."

Cameron turned, preparing herself to confront Cuddy. Cuddy forced herself to her feet, cane in hand.

"Cameron," Cuddy started, her tone causing Cameron to stop and turn, "You're here to take care of patients, not take care of me. Now, go back and check on the labs. Come to me when you've found something."

Cameron stared into Cuddy's eyes and then turned and walked away. Cuddy let out a sigh and limped back to House's chair. Her willpower was diminishing as the minutes passed. She was ready to break the deal. She couldn't take the pain anymore.

Just as Cuddy sat down, Wilson entered the office. He began pacing immediately, looking back and forth between the form of House and the ground, figuring out what his first words would be. He waited until the door shut before speaking.

"Did you tell her to do that?" Wilson asked, finally stopping and turning full front toward who he considered to be his friend.

"Did I tell who to do what?" Cuddy asked back, her head pounding so much that it caused her to forget Wilson had just been in her office talking to House.

"Did you tell Cuddy if she came on to me that you would stop taking your Vicodin?" Wilson was under the impression he was right.

It took a moment for Cuddy to process the information. The realization hit her face and she stood up quickly, almost falling. "He WHAT?!"

Wilson, who had thought he had known what was going on, was suddenly confused. "He?" Wilson shook his head. "Withdrawal is really getting to you."

"I'll _kill_ him." Cuddy was limping toward the office door.

"House, maybe you should take it easy," Wilson suggested, concerned at the reaction, fearing his friend was delusional.

Cuddy stormed down the hallway, almost falling several times as she neglected to take care of the damaged leg. Wilson followed after and took hold of House's arm, preventing Cuddy from going any further. She spun to face Wilson.

"I have to see Hou- Cuddy." Cuddy pulled her arm from Wilson's grasp and punched the button for the elevator.

"Did you hit your head, House?" Wilson asked. "I'm beginning to get worried."

"I'm fine, great," Cuddy hissed in Wilson's direction and entered the elevator, pushing the button to go down.

Cuddy paced in the elevator once the doors had closed. She couldn't believe House. Her blood was practically boiling. She was almost afraid that she was going to hurt House once she was alone in a room with him. The elevator doors opened and Cuddy hurried to her office.

House was sitting at Cuddy's desk, downloading as much porn as he could on to her computer. Before he started his search, he had been going through all of her files, hoping to find some dirt, but there wasn't any. He hoped Cuddy hadn't decided to go through _his_ computer files.

He glanced up at the door just in time to see his body limping and barely able to remain standing coming towards the office. House closed all the porn and placed two clasped hands on Cuddy's desk.

Cuddy threw her office door open and slammed it shut. She strode across the office.

"House!" Cuddy yelled at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing toying with Wilson like that?! If you want to play that kind of game, I'll make sure I come on to him as well!"

Cuddy slammed a palm down on the desk. House stared at her.

"Go ahead," he replied simply.

Cuddy shook her head, anger fuming so much she could barely breathe. "This has to stop. We're going to the elevator and we're going to figure out how to fix this."

House stood up. "Fine."

House led the way to the door. Cuddy thought he was going to give her a hard time and stood for a moment in surprise. She turned and limped after House. She caught up with him just outside of her office.

"What did you do to him?" Cuddy asked, staring at House.

"Who?" House replied as if he didn't know.

"Wilson!" Cuddy was still pissed.

"Oh, right." House raised his eyebrows. "I didn't _do_ anything to him. He ran away scared before I had a chance."

Cuddy nodded and let out a breath. "Good. That's... good."

House pressed the button for the elevator. When the doors slid open, they both hesitated. Cuddy took the initiative to step in first. House followed after. He pressed the button for the top floor. Cuddy looked at him. House shrugged.

"What?" He asked. "The longer we ride, the better chance we have of getting another glitch."

"Like you actually know what you're talking about," Cuddy snapped at him.

"Who put your boxers in a bunch?" House asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Cuddy groaned. "Shut up."

"I bet you wish you had some of these." House held up a pill bottle and shook it, its contents rattling.

Cuddy's eyes immediately went to the pill bottle. She stared at it, longingly. She really wanted this pain to go away and knew that bottle contained Vicodin. Cuddy threw her gaze to House.

"I never tortured you," Cuddy told him and swiped at the bottle, missing it as House pulled it away.

"Au contraire," House replied, thinking of the times when he was tortured, teased, and bothered about his heavy use of Vicodin.

"Fine," Cuddy replied and stiffened, facing forward.

The elevator opened on the top floor. House pressed the button for the ground floor. As the elevator went down, it stopped and opened on the fourth floor. Cuddy extended the cane across the open doorway, preventing a doctor and two nurses from entering.

"No." Cuddy shook her head, staring at them.

The doctor looked to the form of Cuddy, expecting the hospital administrator to jump in and allow him access to the elevator. House shrugged and the doors slid shut.

"I don't think this is going to work," House commented as the elevator continued down.

"We need to fix this," Cuddy replied, giving House a side glance.

"You keep saying that," House told her.

"House!" Cuddy turned to House. "I will _not_ live one more day as you. I can't do it. I won't."

"Okay," House replied.

"You're not going to fight me or tell me some sort of snide comment about how I can't 'hack it'?" Cuddy asked.

"No," House answered. "But, for the record, I don't know how this happened or how to fix it. And I really don't think riding an elevator all day is going to help."

Cuddy glared. "Well, figure something else out then!"

"Calm down, Cuddy." House raised his hands defensively. He spoke again in a lowered tone. "You've become an even meaner bitch as me, you know."

"And you've become a whore," Cuddy shot back.

"Touche."

The elevator doors slid open on the ground floor. House stepped out and Cuddy walked out after him. She stopped and House realized she wasn't following after. He turned and faced her.

"Go work with your team," House told her. "I'll try to figure something out."

House held his eyes locked with Cuddy's, then turned and headed for Cuddy's office. Cuddy felt her pocket vibrating. She was being paged. With a sigh, she stepped back into the elevator doors just before they slid closed.


	4. A Confrontation

**Thank you for all the reviews and good words! They make me happy. :-) Anyway, here's the next chapter. A thanks to my Beta who keeps me on my toes. Enjoy, folks!**

* * *

Cuddy paced in House's office, trying to keep her mind distracted enough in an attempt to keep from vomiting. She was visibly shaking and she couldn't take it any longer. Cuddy hobbled over to House's desk and began digging, throwing anything that wasn't a pill bottle onto the desk.

After a minute of searching, Cuddy found herself clutching the small orange pill bottle. With one quick motion she managed to pop the cap off and have two pills in hand. Glancing towards the door cautiously, Cuddy put the pills in her mouth and swallowed them. She picked the mug of water up from the desk and chased the pills down.

Cuddy sat down in House's chair and set the mug back down. She had mixed feelings about what she just did. Part of her was hating herself for giving in to the pain while the other half was relieved to finally being able to get some relief. And then there was a small part of Cuddy that was trying to figure out the best way to lie to House about the pills. She was certain he was going to know she took Vicodin.

The door to the office opened and Cameron burst in followed by Chase and Foreman. Cameron was holding the patient's chart while Chase and Foreman each held test results.

"We think he has TTP," Foreman said and extended his test results out.

Cuddy forced herself from the chair, using the cane, and moved around the desk. She took the papers from Foreman and scanned them over.

"Thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura," Cameron clarified.

Cuddy shot her a look. "I know what TTP is."

"You're so out of it, I thought-" Cameron started, with a shrug.

"Kidney failure?" Cuddy asked, turning to Chase and Foreman.

"Not yet," Chase answered. "But, his platelet count is low, the CBC shows anemia..."

Cuddy took the test results from Chase and looked those over as well.

"He has high levels of creatinine and there's a high level of protein in his urine," Cameron added.

The team waited for Cuddy to respond. After a minute, she looked up at them.

"Okay," Cuddy agreed. "So, start him on dialysis and plasmapheresis. Keep him monitored."

"You're not... going to fight us on this?" Chase asked, eyebrows drawn.

"No, it all checks out," Cuddy answered, handing back the test results.

"But, it doesn't exactly explain the seizures," Foreman pointed out.

Cuddy stared at Foreman. She wasn't sure what she should say. However, she noted her pain was starting to subside just a touch.

"House?" Cameron asked.

"Right." Cuddy shook her head, bringing herself from her thoughts. "Run some more tests. Give the guy a seizure. That's what I would say, right?" Cuddy nodded. "Yeah, kill the guy or something. Go."

Foreman shook his head, irritated by the recent change in House, and took off out of the office. Chase followed after Foreman. Cameron waited a moment, looking Cuddy over, and then left. Cuddy leaned against House's desk and sighed.

* * *

House was kicked back in Cuddy's chair, legs crossed, and high heeled boots placed pleasantly on the desk. He was signing off on paychecks and forms, knowing full well that when he signed Cuddy's signature, it was completely different penmanship. But, he figured, Cuddy would be mad if he went through the day without doing any work. House smirked.

There was a knock on Cuddy's office door. House pulled his boots from the desk and sat up in the chair. He set the forms he was signing down and waved the female nurse in. She entered cautiously, nervously, with her head bowed down. Gently, she sat down in the chair opposite the desk. She finally raised her head.

"Can I help you?" House asked, annoyed at this woman already due to her entrance.

"I hope you're not busy, Dr. Cuddy," the woman said. "Your secretary wasn't there, so I thought I could just knock."

"It's fine," House replied, trying not to roll his eyes. "What do you want?"

"My name is Julia Monty," the woman identified herself. "I don't know if you remember me because you probably meet so many people... Anyway, I work in pediatrics and at the clinic as well. I made a complaint two weeks ago about... Dr. Simmons. He's often in the clinic when I am. I talked to human resources about the problem, but I don't think they actually did anything. One of the men in HR is friends with Dr. Simmons so... I thought I would come to you directly."

House stared. "...Okay. So, what's the problem, Julia?"

"Dr. Simmons harasses me whenever we work in the clinic together." Julia looked away.

House raised his eyebrows. "Harasses you... _how_?"

Julia raised her eyes back up. "He inappropriately touches me... and he says vulgar things to me. I can't work around him."

"Do you bring it upon yourself?" House asked. "I mean, do you provoke him?"

Julia's mouth dropped open. "No! I don't do anything to him! Dr. Cuddy, I would think you of all people would not be so quick to judge _me_."

"What is that suppose to mean?" House took personal offense at Julia's words.

"Well, look at the way you're dressed!" Julia pointed out. "I don't see how you can dress like that and expect men not to say things to _you_. Unless you consider yourself so high in power that you think no men will harass you or they'll be fired. Maybe you're lucky to have such a good job. You can dress like _that_ and do nothing when your employees are sexually harassed."

"You can stop jumping down my throat now," House replied to Julia's rant, annoyed again.

"Sorry," Julia spat out and stood, "Forget I even came in here, Dr. Cuddy."

Julia made her way to the door. House sighed and stood.

"Wait," House called after her, stopping her. "I'll talk to Dr. Simmons. I'll... do whatever it is I'm suppose to do."

Julia turned around, shot House a doubtful look, and then walked out the door. House frowned and sat down in Cuddy's chair.

"Bitch," he muttered and picked up the phone, planning on calling Dr. Simmons to his office, interested to see what this doctor was really like.

* * *

Cuddy threw open the door to her office and hobbled inside, not waiting for House's approval to enter. House glanced up from a chart on the desk.

"I have a meeting," he told her.

"Who do you plan on seducing now?" Cuddy couldn't help the words from shooting out of her mouth.

"Dr. Simmons," House answered.

"Do you even know who Dr. Simmons is?" Cuddy was under the impression House was toying with her.

"Did you take Vicodin?" House ignored her question, noting how lucid Cuddy seemed to be.

"No," Cuddy lied quickly.

House leaned back in Cuddy's chair, eyeing her up suspiciously. "You're not sweating anymore."

"I..." Cuddy tried to think of a valid excuse.

"Took Vicodin," House finished and stood up from the chair.

"House," Cuddy started and attempted to think of way in which to reason with him.

House moved around the desk and towards Cuddy. "You broke the deal."

"You knew I was going to." Cuddy began pacing, keeping a slight distance from House. "You couldn't have expected me to make it through withdrawal. You know you have a severe drug problem and knew I would crack."

"You agreed to it," House pointed out, "You know what this means, don't you?"

That stopped Cuddy in her tracks. She slammed the end of the cane down hard on the floor. "House, if you do anything sexual to my body, I will be sure to give _you_ an STD."

House pondered this. "Fine... I won't 'touch you.' But, since you did break the deal..."

"What?" Cuddy drew back, afraid.

"Clinic duty." House moved back around to the other side of Cuddy's desk and seated himself once again.

Cuddy approached the desk, limping. "I actually came here to talk to you about your patient."

"Correction: _your_ patient," House emphasized. "And you're not getting out of clinic duty."

"All right then," Cuddy began, "_my_ patient seems to have TTP, but he had a seizure. That's not common in TTP. He wasn't prone to seizures either. Never had one before, no history of epilepsy or anything like that."

House wasn't sure if he wanted to engage in the medical problem and help Cuddy, but the mystery did intrigue him. "Was he sick at all? Before the seizure?"

"I don't think so." Cuddy was unsure.

House shook his head. "That's not an answer."

"I don't know." Cuddy shrugged, annoyed.

"That's not an answer either," House said. "An answer is yes or no. Go ask him about his past illnesses. Actually, send Cameron to ask him. You need to put in some clinic hours."

"This man could die." Cuddy leaned in closer to the desk.

"I don't care," House admitted, blatantly. "That's what your team's for."

Cuddy stared at House. "Fine."

"Good." House cocked his head to the side in approval. His eyes fell on someone just outside the door. "Oh, and here's Dr. Simmons, so you'll have to excuse us."

Cuddy glanced back at the door, recognizing the doctor. She turned back. "You were serious?"

"I'm not going to hit on him, Cuddy." House told her through clear annoyance, but he meant it as a means of reassuring her that she needn't worry.

"House, Dr. Simmons-" Cuddy started, wanting to tell House that he needed to be careful since Dr. Simmons had several complaints against him that were later retracted.

"I'm dealing with a hospital administrator problem," House spoke slowly, condescendingly, making sure Cuddy understood him. "_Now_, if you'll excuse us..."

"Fine, I'm going!" Cuddy was already making her way to the door. "Have it your way, House!"

Cuddy threw open the door and ignored Dr. Simmons as he greeted her and entered the office. Dr. Simmons shut the door behind him and smiled as he made his way across the room.

"Ah, Dr. Cuddy." Dr. Simmons smiled wider. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Dr. Simmons extended a hand before sitting down. House was sizing this man up as he shook his hand. Dr. Simmons pleasantly sat himself down across from the desk. House made himself comfortable in Cuddy's chair.

"Just a little chat." House gave a small shrug, deciding on which route to take next.

"You know, Dr. Cuddy, that shirt looks great on you," Dr. Simmons complimented, his eyes darting from House's face, down to the low cut shirt, then back up again.

House paused, feeling violated. His wardrobe game had seemed more fun when he felt he had the cards in his hand. "Thank you, Dr. Simmons. Now, I called you here to ask you about a little problem. A member of my staff had a complaint against you."

"I put in too many hours, I know." Dr. Simmons gave a good hearted laugh, which made House frown. He couldn't believe this guy.

"It wasn't about that." House shook his head. "Actually, it was a complaint about you sexually harassing a female coworker."

"Who said that?" Dr. Simmons folded his arms across his chest, a clear indication to House that he was on the defense.

"So, it's true?" House leaned in, forgetting that doing so exposed more of his breasts. He sometimes he forgot that he had them.

"No, of course not," Dr. Simmons replied as if he had just been accused of the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"And I should take your word over hers?" House asked.

Dr. Simmons shrugged, arms still folded. "You're going to have to."

"It's not that easy." House straightened up, leaning back into the chair.

"This is insane," Dr. Simmons replied. "I can't help it if women at this hospital think they can dress so provocatively. They _want_ the attention, Dr. Cuddy. They bring it upon themselves."

"Exactly what I thought." House gave a nod.

"What?" Dr. Simmons was confused at House's agreement.

"Look at myself." House raised his arms up, showing off the attire he chosen that morning, "Why else would I dress like this?"

Dr. Simmons paused a moment, unsure of what to say. "Uh, exactly?"

"Wrong." House slammed a manicured hand on the desk. "I dress like this because it's justifiably part of female attire and it's comfortable. Maybe _I_ could wear a little more clothing, but it appears the plaintiff wasn't even close to revealing as much as I am right now."

"Plaintiff? Are we in court?" Dr. Simmons looked down, not wanting to keep eye contact with a very angry woman.

"Eyes off my breasts, Simmons." House's stern tone made Dr. Simmons draw his eyes back up. "I suggest you stop whatever it is you're doing to women at this hospital. They are _not_ here to please your eyes. And if I get so much as a whiff of a complaint against you again, you'll be fired," House snapped his fingers, "like that. Am I understood?"

Dr. Simmons nodded. "Yes, Dr. Cuddy."

"Get out of my sight." House gave a flick of a hand, signifying he wanted Dr. Simmons gone.

Dr. Simmons picked himself up out of the chair, frightened by the mind game the apparent Dr. Cuddy had just played with him. He left quickly and as soon as the door was shut, House stood up and moved around Cuddy's desk, pacing.

What House had said to Dr. Simmons was somewhat hypocritical considering the way in which he always referred to Cuddy or Cameron. However, when Dr. Simmons stared at him, House felt completely disgusted. House had always thought his comments were in good sport, for the most part, and was suddenly wondering if what he said was too much.

House let out a sigh and picked up the black sweater that was resting on the coat rack in the corner of the Cuddy's office. He put it on and buttoned it. It didn't cover him completely, but he was certain it helped. House then made his way back over to Cuddy's desk chair and sat down, setting his mind to figure out how to get himself back in his own body and Cuddy into hers.


	5. Fixing

**Sorry this has taken me forever to update. This week at school had been nuts and I just wasn't feeling this fic. Hopefully the next chapter won't be such a long wait. My apologies and enjoy!**

* * *

Cuddy scanned over the chart in her hands as she stood in exam room one. The door opened and a middle aged bald man entered. He froze when he saw Cuddy. She noticed this and set the chart down on the counter while gripping the cane in her hand tighter.

"Uh, Dr. House," the man said. "I... didn't think I would see you on the follow up."

Cuddy sighed. She had been getting this from all the returning patients. "Look, whatever I did to you, I apologize. I was having a bad day. Please take a seat, Mr. Oshford."

Mr. Oshford walked to the exam table and sat on it timidly. Cuddy moved towards the table and rested the cane against it. She snapped exam gloves on, almost forgetting for the eighth time that day to grab a larger sized glove. Gently, Cuddy examined Mr. Oshford's lymph nodes just below his jaw line.

"How have you been feeling?" Cuddy asked and took a step back, the lymph nodes only slightly swollen in size.

"Much better." Mr. Oshford nodded reassuringly.

"And you still have half the antibiotic left, correct?" Cuddy limped over to the counter and lifted the chart, making a few notes.

"Correct," Mr. Oshford answered.

Cuddy shut the chart and set it back down on the counter. She began to pull the gloves from her hands.

"Good." Cuddy nodded. "Make sure you finish the antibiotic and you should be fine."

Mr. Oshford nodded and slid from the exam table. "That's it?"

"That's it," Cuddy repeated and threw her gloves in the trash.

Mr. Oshford scooted past Cuddy and out the door. Cuddy frowned. None of the patients she saw ever said goodbye and acted like they had just dodged a bullet. House's bad reputation made the clinic hours seem to stretch on twice as long.

Cuddy felt her pocket vibrating and reached for House's cell phone quickly. She flipped it open and held it to her ear.

"Hello?" Cuddy asked.

"Um..." Cameron's voice came through the phone. "You actually picked up. That's... strange. I called to tell you Edward Fuller's getting worse."

Cuddy let out a sigh, irritated by the fact that she was wrong about the diagnosis. "I'll be right there."

Snapping the cell phone shut, Cuddy slipped it back into the dark jean pocket. Grabbing House's cane she limped to the door, pulled it open, and headed out of the clinic and towards the elevators.

* * *

As Cuddy approached the room where her team was already in the progress of determining Edward Fuller's illness, she suddenly stopped when she saw who else was in the room with them. Picking up her limping pace, Cuddy burst into the room, causing all eyes to fall on her.

"Dr. House," the voice she so longed to be reunited with spoke. "Glad you could finally join us."

Cuddy glared at House as he stood with arms folded in a manner that made her feel as if he was looking down on her. Cuddy moved into the room a bit more and scanned the faces of her team before bringing her eyes back to House.

"What are you doing here, _Cuddy_?" Cuddy asked, glaring.

"Wanted to check on your progress." House seated himself at the table and crossed one leg over the other. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

Cuddy's eyes lingered on House. Cameron, who had been watching the interaction between the two, also had her eyes on the form of Cuddy. Chase was deep in thought, going over the symptoms and possible diagnoses in his head, while Foreman appeared bored as he stood next to the dry erase board.

"Are we going to solve this any time today?" Foreman asked loudly, pulling everyone from their trance and bringing all eyes on him.

"Yes," Cuddy replied crisply and made her way to the dry erase board.

"So, you know what's wrong with him?" House cocked his head to the side. He wanted to appear as if he was only doing this to bother Cuddy now that he had all the authority, but he was really more focused on figuring out the great mystery behind this man's illness. Once that was out of the way, he could focus on the even greater mystery of the body swap.

Cuddy glared at House. She was certain that he knew she had no idea what was wrong with this man. Her only suggestion had obviously tanked. But, as she stared at her former self, knowing House's mind was in there, she felt this sudden need to figure it out and show House up.

"Of course I know," Cuddy replied haughtily. "I wouldn't be an arrogant son of a bitch if I didn't know, right?"

"Right." House nodded in agreement. "And would you like me to sit here and annoy you with all the authority I possess? Because I can. Really, it's not problem. My job isn't as hard as I make it seem."

"That's funny because I simply toy with people's lives, not giving a damn if they live or die," Cuddy replied, the temperature in the room beginning to rise. "It's kind of nice because it doesn't affect me at all. I simply don't care."

Cameron, who had her eyebrows drawn together in confusion, spoke up, "Maybe we should focus on-"

"True," House cut her off, responding to what Cuddy had said. "Very true. You know, I get overly involved in cases sometimes. Then, I cry like a baby and wonder why my life sucks."

"And I'm completely addicted to Vicodin." Cuddy leaned in toward House, trying to rub it in his face that she was right about the addiction. "If that's not a sad life, I don't know what is. It controls me. One hundred percent."

"Is there something-" Chase spoke slowly, hoping to gain their attention in an attempt to do what Cameron had not.

"I'm such a failure at life, I can't even get pregnant." House hit a nerve in Cuddy. She tensed before his eyes, her knuckles white as she clutched the cane. House continued on, raising his voice in an almost foolish manner. "I am a woman, dammit, and it's the only thing I'm biologically good for, but I can't even do that right."

Cuddy pressed her lips together, eyes narrowed on House. Her words were biting and harsh. "I push every single person away from me in the hopes that I'll reach some sort of redemption. Pushing everyone away just proves the world is a terrible, awful place. No one sticks around with a drug addicted jerk."

Foreman raised his voice to interrupt the scene, but the two didn't even give him a side glance. "I think it might be a good idea if we move on to import-"

"I pretend to be in charge, but most of the time I'm lying out my ass," House spoke quickly. It was rapid fire time.

"I don't even know what's wrong with half the people that come to me, but I pretend to so no one looks down on me." Cuddy hit a sore point in House. "If I prove to them all that I am competent, maybe they'll overlook the fact that I have an addiction and I'm miserably alone."

House glared. "I sleep with men only to-"

"Don't even go there." Cuddy took a step toward House, trying to ignore the pain that shot through her thigh. "I don't even want to touch upon the rumors of all the call girls-"

House shook his head, ponytail swiping at the back of his neck. "That's not the same thing."

"What?" Cuddy took a step back, her tone mocking. "Is that the hypocrisy of different sexes I hear? Women can be whores, but men can't? That's just perfect. Of course you would say that."

Foreman stepped in between the fighting couple. "Hey! Can we please reach some sort of diagnosis so I can get out of here and do my job? After, you two can kill each other. I just want to figure this out before the patient dies."

Cuddy sighed and looked to Foreman, feeing embarrassed for letting her anger at House get the best of her. "Of course."

"It's Hemolytic-uremic syndrome," House spoke up, his tone a mix of defeat and irritation.

"HUS?" Cameron stood from her chair and leaned toward who she thought was Cuddy. "Caused by a type of E. coli? That usually occurs in children."

"Which is why it was difficult to diagnose," House became annoyed. He was Cuddy now and felt that the team was giving him doubt. If he had said it in his own body, he was sure Cameron would be all for it. "There was a case of this a couple years ago in an older woman. It explains the seizures too. It's a rare side effect."

"You're sure it's HUS?" Chase asked, his face veiled with uncertainty.

Foreman nodded. "It makes sense. In adults, HUS is often hard to distinguish from TTP. They have very similar symptoms."

"He could probably die at any moment." House swiveled the chair to look at all the members of the team. "You might want to get a move on. Like... _now_."

Cameron and Chase both directed their eyes to their boss. Foreman gave a glance over as well. Cuddy realized they were waiting for her to agree, argue, or give them some other command.

"Oh, right," Cuddy said. "Start him on treatment. Go."

Foreman shook his head and let out a sigh. He hurried to the door and took off for the elevators, irritated by the fact that his superiors were acting disturbingly strange. Cameron lingered a bit, as did Chase, and they gathered a few test results and the patient's chart from the table.

"This day couldn't get any weirder." Cameron muttered to Chase as they exited the room.

"So..." House leaned back in the chair, hands placed comfortably behind his head, not realizing it made his breasts more noticeable through the sweater he had slipped on earlier. "What the hell was that?"

"Good question." Cuddy eyed him up, noticing the sweater, but refraining from asking about it because she didn't want to get off topic.

House leaned forward, lowering his hands. He was nervous. "We need to fix this."

"That's only what I've been saying since it happened." Cuddy limped to the chair next to House and sat down. "What do we do?"

"We go over each moment of the day, specifically the time spent in the elevator, and begin from there." House was only guessing. "There has to be some logical explanation."

"Yes, because this is all so logical, House." Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"I'm doing my best here, Cuddy," House shot back.

"Okay, sorry." Cuddy knew she had to draw back a little and give him some space to think about their problem. She knew it was the only way it might actually get solved. Though, she did have a question on her mind. "How long did you know what the diagnosis was?"

"Realized it during our little stunt," House replied, sliding his eyes over to look at her. "Things aren't always what they seem. There's often something deeper." He paused. "Like E. coli."

Cuddy gave him a half smile. "So, we're going to cover our day from beginning to the end."

"Yes." House nodded solemnly. "Anything and everything."

Cuddy let out a sigh. "Then, let's get started."


	6. Scene of the Crime

**An update! Yay! Not sure how many chapter will follow this one. We'll see. However, if it is ending soon, I do have a new House fic in the works, so keep your eyes out for that. Enjoy!!!**

* * *

"Okay..." House thought hard. "So, you went flying off the handle and committed mass murder at what time?"

Cluddy glared as she sat opposite him at the table. Two hours had gone by and she was certain they weren't any closer to solving this. Cuddy was just lucky that the team hadn't come back. She didn't want to put up with them again.

Noting the returning pain in her thigh, Cuddy tried to conceal the fact that she was working on opening the pill container in her pocket. After a few failed attempts, she finally pulled it out and took the lid off before popping a Vicodin in her mouth. She tried not to look at House as she put the pill bottle away.

House watched Cuddy's entire attempt at trying to hide the fact that she was taking Vicodin. He was fairly certain she would never annoy him about _his_ Vicodin use again. That made him smile. However, House immediately frowned when he spotted Wilson approaching the room.

The glass door swung open and Wilson stood there a moment, observing the two. He entered the room and placed his hands on his hips.

"All right, I give up," he said. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Cuddy answered quickly.

House shot Cuddy a look. If they wanted to convince Wilson that nothing was, in fact, wrong, then they needed to start acting like the other and show him there weren't any problems. House was positive he wouldn't be _that_ nervous and jumpy. Ever. Cuddy was doing a terrible job.

Cuddy caught House's look. She knew what he meant by the glare, but Wilson's suspicions couldn't all be placed on her. After all, it was House that had seduced Wilson in her body. It was House that gave Wilson suspicions to begin with.

"You're not going to tell me," Wilson deduced and then set his eyes on the form of House. He needed to ear their trust. "All right, that's fair. However, I ran into your team and Cameron said you've been acting very strangely as of late."

Cuddy glanced over to House before looking back to Wilson. "Of course she did. She's always worried about someone."

"No," Wilson disagreed and shook his head slightly, trying to figure his friend out. "Chase and Foreman also mentioned something was up."

"Conspiracy theory," Cuddy replied, feeling that she may be able to pull off House after all.

"Right," Wilson agreed, but certainly didn't believe it. He turned to his boss. "What's the bet? I have a right to know. After all, I do have to deal with the two of you and the fact that you came on to me."

House tried to hold back his smirk because Wilson was staring at him. "Coming on to you had nothing to do with any bet, James."

"House." Cuddy warned in a low tone, catching Wilson's attention.

"What was that?" Wilson asked. "Did you just call her House?"

Cuddy sucked in a breath and her eyes met Wilson's inquiring ones. "We swapped minds. Or bodies, rather. I'm Cuddy," she gave a nod to her former self, "that's House."

Wilson stared a moment before chuckling slightly and shaking his head. He took a few steps back, raising his hands up. "You know what? I don't want to know. Whatever it is, I... just don't want to know."

With that, Wilson turned and left the room. House glared at Cuddy.

"Nice one," he told her.

"What?" Cuddy asked. "It got him to leave, didn't it?"

"Now he thinks I'm crazy," House said, slightly irritated.

"You _are_ crazy," Cuddy replied. "Besides, no one is going to believe this._I_ don't even believe it. I'm still waiting to wake up."

House raised his eyebrows. "You're going to be waking up as a gimping cynic for the rest of your life if we don't figure this out."

"What, pray tell, do you suppose we do next?" Cuddy replied, giving him attitude. Her hurt leg gave her reason to be snappy.

"Shock therapy." House watched for Cuddy's reaction. "Something Frankenstein would be proud of."

"Excuse me?" Cuddy stared.

"We get some machines to shock us back into our old selves," House told her.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together and she threw out a sarcastic tone. "I'm sorry to inform you that shocking two people in order to switch bodies is based on fiction, Dr. Jekyll."

"I don't hear you coming up with any ideas," House was quick to reply.

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm trying to remain realistic over here," Cuddy shot back.

"How do you know it wasn't real, Cuddy?" House leaned back in his chair. "Maybe the shock swapping was based on truth that everyone believed was false because they thought it could never happen." He paused, eyeing up his tensed former body. "Obviously, it could."

"Yes," Cuddy agreed with a roll of her eyes, "because I'm sure these people you speak of were swapped when their elevators malfunctioned back in the 1880's."

"Then, why don't you think of something, smart ass." House was annoyed now. It didn't help that Cuddy was shooting down his ideas. He wasn't sure what else he had to go on.

"The elevator," she said simply.

House shook his head. "I'm not going to ride around in the elevator again."

"You can think just as well in the elevator as you can right here," Cuddy told him. "We might as well try it, House, and hope the elevator breaks down. When you get an idea that actually means something, we'll try it."

"Fine."

House stood quickly and hurried for the door. Cuddy grabbed the cane and hoisted herself to her feet. She ignored the pain and hurried after House. He was halfway down the hall by the time she stepped through the doorway.

"You're doing that on purpose!" Cuddy called after him, annoyed at the fact that he was speeding down the hallway because he knew she couldn't keep up.

"Not my problem!" He called back over his shoulder and pressed the button for the elevator.

Breathless, Cuddy arrived alongside of House just as the doors were opening. The two boarded the elevator and House grabbed his cane from Cuddy and nudged whoever was still on the elevator toward the open doors. Each person looked to him, but dutifully left the elevator.

Now they were alone. The doors slid closed and House handed the cane back to Cuddy. Cuddy remained glaring at him.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied. "Did you think anyone would stand up to me? I am Cuddy, hear me roar."

The elevator continued down and opened on the ground floor. A few people moved to enter but House stepped in the doorway.

"I am afraid this elevator is out of order," he said loudly, not only addressing the people in front of the elevator, but half the lobby as well. "If you could refrain from using it, that would be simply fantastic."

"But, you're using it," a young doctor commented, his eyebrows drawn together. "And Dr. House."

Two dozen pairs of eyes fell on Cuddy. She gave a little wave. House looked to his previous body, which was leaning against the elevator wall, and then turned back to the small crowd.

"If everyone refrains from using this elevator, you'll all get a raise." House gave a smile.

"House," Cuddy scolded and took a step closer to House, teeth clenched. "I mean, _Cuddy_. Don't you think that's a little _insane_? I don't think the hospital has enough money to give everyone a raise."

House shrugged. "But, can't you see they deserve it, _Dr. House_?"

House indicated the crowd which grew in numbers. Cuddy looked to the crowd just as the doors slid shut. House punched the button for the top floor.

"Up we go," he said and stepped towards the back of the elevator.

"I can't give everyone a raise, House." Cuddy sighed.

"I said if everyone refrains from using the elevator, then they'll get a raise," House replied nonchalantly. "Someone's bound to step on to use it during our little stint. Raise is null and void."

"You're evil." Cuddy glared.

"Just holding up your reputation." House shrugged.

The elevator began to rumble and stopped. Cuddy looked to House, her eyes wide. This was it, she was sure. She would finally be back in her body. The lights dimmed reasonably, but nothing else seemed to be happening. Maybe this wasn't it.

"What do we do?" Cuddy asked.

House moved to the elevator phone. He pulled door open. Nothing. He slammed it shut, hoping that would do it. Again, nothing. He looked to Cuddy and shrugged.

"Damn," Cuddy cursed.

The elevator jolted down a foot. Cuddy clutched onto the wall. She was beginning to develop a fear of elevators. House opened the door to the phone again and slammed it shut. The elevator bounced down another foot.

"Stop," Cuddy commanded, a pair of worried eyes on House.

House ignored her, brow furrowed together in thought. He opened the door once more and slammed it as hard as he could. The lights went out and a familiar bluish white light filled the elevator. House and Cuddy felt the shock rip through them.

Cuddy let out of cry of surprise and gladness, knowing what it meant. House breathed a sigh of relief as his grip tightened on the cane resting under his hand. Cuddy's hands went to her hair, which was falling out of her ponytail, and then to her breasts. She relaxed, a smile spreading across her face.

The lights flickered back on. Cuddy stared at House while House stared back. Cuddy bit her lower lip and practically flew across the elevator to House, hugging him tightly.

"You did it!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, House."

Then, she kissed him. After a moment, she suddenly realized her mistake and pulled away. Cuddy moved to the far corner of the elevator as House smirked before popping a Vicodin. The elevator jolted for the third time and began to descend.

"Sorry about that," Cuddy apologized, raising her eyes to him.

"About how you just made out with me?" House asked. His smile grew. "First, you hit on Wilson, then you make out with me. When will the madness stop?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Correction._You_ hit on Wilson."

"Now, who's going to believe that?" House asked her. He knew he had her.

Cuddy set her jaw, not having any comeback to that. He was right and she knew it. She frowned and folded her arms across her chest.

"I guess you just want to forget about all of this." House sized her up.

"Like I want to remember it," Cuddy scoffed.

House tried to hide his smile. "I do. I played dress up Cuddy."

Cuddy glared. She was back on the defense. "And I signed you up for a detox program. When you don't show up tomorrow, they'll be giving you a call."

House smirked. He loved when Cuddy showed she had backbone. He moved to the doors, preparing to walk out once they opened.

"You might want to replace this elevator," he told her. "Wouldn't want to become anyone else, would we? Wilson, perhaps? You'd kill yourself after half of a day."

"Almost had that problem with you." Cuddy's eyes burned House's back.

House looked over his shoulder. "Because being you was a joy."

"You seemed to have fun," Cuddy commented.

The elevator doors opened on House's floor. He stepped off and turned around, his eyes meeting Cuddy's.

"If you think being a whorish hospital administrator with a God complex is fun," House began, just to infuriate her, "then, yes."

The elevator doors slid shut removing House from her view. Cuddy dropped her tension and let out a breath, thankful this was all over with. She decided she would leave the hospital early. She was certain she couldn't stand to do any work for the remainder of the day.

Once the doors had shut, House took off down the hall toward his office. He couldn't wait to be back in familiar territory now that he was in a familiar body. As House entered his office, he smirked, thinking of the little surprise he gave Cuddy, wondering what she would do when she found it.


	7. Testimony

**I'm sorry to say it, but this is the last chapter. Thank you for the tremendous encouragement and feedback. I'm so pleased it was well received. Thanks, everyone! And enjoy the last chapter!**

* * *

Cuddy could kill him. She made it home and was undressing to take a shower when she saw it. With his imminent death in her mind, she dressed in her choice of clothes, and took off for the hospital. Now, her heels clicked on the linoleum floor as she headed straight for his office.

She pushed through the door without bothering to knock. House looked up expectantly from his desk. His legs were crossed and kicked up on his desk. Cuddy stormed over and smacked his feet to the floor.

"What the hell was that for?" House asked, but he already knew.

"What was _that_ for?" she repeated and pulled off her jacket, revealing her sleeveless shirt.

Cuddy pointed to the tattoo on her upper arm. It was a red heart with a banner swirled around it inscribed with the name _Gregory House_. She took a step back from his desk and tried to keep her voice at a reasonable level as House began laughing.

"I know it isn't a real tattoo," Cuddy said, "but, you've really outdone yourself, House. How long am I going to have this little gem on my arm?"

House was still laughing. The look on her face was priceless. "A week, tops. It was airbrushed. Thought you might want a peek at what it'll look like when we get matching ones."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "Is there any way to get this off sooner?"

House leaned back in his chair. "So, I'm guessing you didn't find the other one..."

"Other one?" Cuddy's face fell and drained of color. She took a step toward House's desk.

House stood from his desk and hobbled over to Cuddy. She anxiously watched him as he moved to her backside and lifted her shirt. Painfully peering back, Cuddy began to see the top of letters. She glanced up at House before looking back to the letters as he pushed down the waistline of her skirt and underwear.

He began to get dangerously close to lowering her skirt a little too much. "House."

House lifted his head and let his hands rest where they were. Cuddy glanced toward the airbrushed tattoo, trying to read it. Her eyebrows drew together.

"Does that say M.C.?" Cuddy looked to House.

His smile gave him away. "M.C. Hammer, to be precise. Guess I proved that I _can_ touch this."

Cuddy angrily pulled herself away from him and turned. House watched as she tried to see the tattoo while holding her clothes down herself.

The door to House's office opened. Cuddy and House both looked up to see Cameron. Cuddy immediately stopped what she was doing. Cameron looked from Cuddy to House.

"I came to let you know the patient is doing much better," Cameron told him.

"Fantastic," House replied, the word laced with sarcasm. He moved to his desk.

Cameron turned to leave, but then turned back. "Is everything okay?"

"Why don't we ask Cuddy?" House looked to Cuddy while Cameron followed suit. "We should talk about this midlife crisis, Cuddy." He nodded and spoke quietly. "It's good to talk."

"Is that a tattoo?" Cameron asked and took a step closer to Cuddy.

Cuddy quickly covered the tattoo with her hand and hurried to her jacket. She threw it on while she glared at House. It wasn't fair that he was having so much fun with this. House smirked and gave a shrug. Cameron's eyebrows were drawn as her eyes were on Cuddy.

"Dr. Cameron." House swung his cane over his shoulder. "Why don't you tell Dr. Cuddy here the dangers of going to third rate tattoo parlors with dirty needles."

"I wouldn't know personally, but-" Cameron started, unsure.

Cuddy held up a hand, a forced smile on her face in order to keep her anger at bay. "Don't humor him." She then directed her attention to House and hissed, "and stop spreading lies about me."

House held back a smug smile that threatened him. Cameron gave up on trying to figure out the power struggle between the two and folded her arms across her chest.

Jamming his cane into the carpet, House moved around his desk and sat down in his chair. Cuddy let a breath escape and looked to the floor, her shoulders deflating. House directed his gaze to Cameron.

"Something you want?" he asked.

"No," Cameron answered, "I did what I came to do. Tell you about the patient."

House eyes widened and he leaned forward. "Then, _go_."

Cameron let out a sigh of her own and left House's office, shaking her head in annoyance at the fact that the antics of the day were still going on. Once the door was shut, House looked to Cuddy, who was still staring at the floor.

After a moment, Cuddy raised her eyes to House. "We need a truce."

"A truce?" House repeated, tapping his cane on the floor and thinking it over.

"Yes, House, a truce," Cuddy replied bitterly. "Can your thick machismo headed skull comprehend that?"

House drew back his head and infused his voice with shock. "Why, _yes_, I do believe it can."

Cuddy frowned and placed her hands on her hips. "No more teasing, no more insulting or commenting about anything that happened over these last two days. And if there are any more 'surprises,' I want to know what they are. _Now_."

"Way to suck the fun right out of this Freaky Friday adventure, Cuddy." House rolled his eyes.

Cuddy pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "House."

"Okay, fine!" House threw his arms up with a sigh. "I rearranged your desk, there's a buzzer under your phone handle, and I unplugged everything in your office."

Shaking her head slowly, Cuddy glared with the burning fire. "If you could just take that mastermind and direct it towards _good_-"

"That would be a complete waste." House shook his head. "Why would I spend this amazing brain on other things when it could be directed to torturing you?"

Cuddy lowered her hands to her side and stared incredulously at House. "Haven't you learned something because of what happened? Haven't you changed at all? Anything?"

House raised his eyes to the ceiling, thinking it over. But, he wasn't going to admit his truths to Cuddy, so he brought his gaze back to her. "No."

"Well, I have." Cuddy kept her eyes locked on House. "It's a shame you haven't."

With a look displaying her disappointment, Cuddy turned from House and left his office. She let out a sigh as her head filled with thoughts of returning home and scrubbing her skin raw at the tattoo sites with any chemicals that wouldn't completely damage her skin.

House leaned back in his chair as he watched her figure pass his office. His lip twitched slightly and he stood to his feet. There was a change somewhere within him, he was quite sure of that. However, he wasn't too keen on wanting to share that with Cuddy.

* * *

Cuddy's heels clicked on the cold floor as she made her way through the lobby of the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She was treating today as a fresh start and hoped that whatever House had done yesterday wouldn't come back to haunt her.

"Dr. Cuddy!"

Cuddy cringed and stopped in her her tracks. She spun around and placed a smile on her face to greet Wilson. Wilson approached her, his jacket on and briefcase in hand.

"Is it safe?" Wilson asked, half prepared to hurry to the elevators if it wasn't.

Cuddy sighed. "Yes. Sorry about yesterday. It'll never happen again."

"I'm not quite sure I know what happened yesterday." Wilson replied, his face showing the confusion he was feeling.

"Neither am I," Cuddy said more to herself than to Wilson. "Just know that we won't be having any other days like that _ever_ again."

Wilson nodded. "I'm not going to get an explanation, am I?"

Cuddy shook her head slightly. "No."

"Good morning!"

Cuddy and Wilson both looked to the front doors as House strolled into the building. Wilson was intrigued and Cuddy was shocked.

"You're here-" Wilson started.

"On time," Cuddy finished, her eyes never leaving House as he approached.

"For the second day in a row." Wilson sized House up.

"Thought I'd remind everyone they can't guess the great Doctor Gregory House." House looked from Wilson to Cuddy, his eyes remaining on her.

"Why don't you keep it up by going to the Clinic?" Cuddy suggested forcefully with a nod.

"Well, we don't want to shock 'em to death, now do we?" House replied to Cuddy and then popped a Vicodin.

"Knocking them back already?" Wilson asked, watching House as he put the pill bottle back in his pocket.

House leaned in towards Wilson. "Let me jab you in the thigh with several sharp objects and then you can ask me that again."

Wilson narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but Cuddy stopped him.

"Don't, James."

Wilson looked to Cuddy. He realized she used his first name in order to be able to reprimand him, but in a way that meant there were no hard feelings.

"His leg is probably stiff and painful after resting it all night." Cuddy tried to justify herself.

"Right," Wilson agreed suspiciously. "I'm just gonna go."

Wilson looked to House before turning from the two of them and heading for the elevators.

"The right one's broken!" House and Cuddy shouted in unison, getting another suspicious look from Wilson that was mixed with confusion.

"My leg's stiff in the morning?" House turned to Cuddy, a small smile spreading.

Cuddy gave him a look. "Don't think I'm not watching your Vicodin intake. I'm still on to you."

House was about to respond when his eyes fell on something past Cuddy. Cuddy's eyebrows drew together and she spun around, curious as to what could have made House shut up.

Dr. Simmons was leaning in a little too close to a nurse. House and Cuddy both watched as the nurse tried to pass Dr. Simmons, but he raised a hand that held her back. House immediately took off toward Dr. Simmons with Cuddy hurriedly following after.

"What did I just tell you?" House asked Dr. Simmons, his tone indicating his disbelief.

The nurse slipped away from Dr. Simmons, who straightened. "Excuse me, Dr. House?"

"One more act like that and you're fired," House told him.

Dr. Simmons looked to a confused Cuddy. "I thought our conversation was private, Dr. Cuddy."

"You lost your privacy when you started your tour of unwanted sexual groping of the females in this hospital," House said.

Cuddy, her mouth hanging open, looked from Dr. Simmons to House. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She heard inklings of Dr. Simmons and his actions, but no complaints ever made it to her desk.

Even without the complaints, she did bring Dr. Simmons into her office for a stern lecture and evaluation, but he evaded her tactics of obtaining the truth and she had to let him remain. It was strange that House was defending another human life form, especially on this topic.

"Is this serious, Dr. Cuddy?" Dr. Simmons kept directing his words to Cuddy in fear of making eye contact with the unpredictable Gregory House.

"Yes." Cuddy found her voice and nodded. "What I said to you yesterday were the facts."

"Which means you're fired," House added in, covering for Cuddy since _he_ was the one who performed the confrontation.

"Yes, you're fired." Cuddy locked eyes with Dr. Simmons. "Have your office cleared out by one."

Dr. Simmons shook his head. "You have no proof on your charges. I'll fight this and sue."

With that, Dr. Simmons took off. Cuddy let out a sigh and turned to House.

"We have testimonies, don't worry," House told Cuddy's worried look, "and you might want to check on some of the gang in HR."

A smile spread across Cuddy's face, a realization coming to her. "And you said this hasn't changed you."

Cuddy began to walk away from House in the direction of her office. House held up a puzzled hand, his eyes watching her go.

"It hasn't!" he protested.

She looked back over her shoulder, a knowing smile on her face. When she turned away from him, House couldn't help but let a gentle smirk extend across his face as well. House and Cuddy were well aware that this experience had changed them both.

* * *

Fin. 


End file.
